Tag Archives: brain

It’s like saying its q___t at work; never say the Q word!! It invites chaos and busyness and problem scripts one after another. But I said accidents happen, and so they did! Fate heard me, even though I don’t really believe in fate…oops, is that another invitation to the world to punish me?? Well punish is a bit dramatic, but you know what I mean.

So I’ve been recovering from accidents and errors ever since I wrote about accidents!! It wasn’t enough that I had my first ever minor car accident last Friday. On Wednesday, I had to go and fall down the stairs!! Like a really idiot!

I think it was sleep stupor, but to be honest I don’t really know. It was morning so sleep stupor could cover it; not much of a morning person, me. I took one step down leading with my right foot, another step down now with my left foot, another with my right and then I just slipped off the far edge of the next step with my left foot and I was gone. Our stairs go halfway straight down, turn 180 degrees then the other halfway straight down. Pretty standard. I slipped on almost the last stair before the turn. It might have to do with the stairs being shaped as wedges for the turn and I hit the tiny point of the wedge. I don’t really know how but somehow my left heel hit close to the edge of the stair and just slipped right out from under me and slipped over stair after stair after stair with no grip on any of them. My left leg was a useless slippery pointy thing sticking out in front of me causing nothing but trouble!!!

Brain kicking into overdrive trying to figure out what to do, hoping to hit the wall at the bottom of the first half of the steps, grabbing the railing by instinct rather than thought, left leg useless sticking straight out front and can’t get a foot hold anywhere, getting half a grip on one stair after another but slipping over each and every one, poor right leg tucked underneath getting banged and scraped stair after stair after stair!!

Luckily, and there is always an aspect of luck with me somehow, I was trailing my hand down the banister and managed to grab it! And even though my grasp slipped down the banister, it got caught on the post halfway down at the corner and I managed somehow to haul myself to a stop. I’ve seriously wrenched my neck and back and arm because of stopping myself but at least I didn’t go head over heels or something worse. And at least my hand was in contact with the banister when I fell; usually I don’t hold on at all! So it could have been much worse. Apparently its a workplace OH&S recommendation to have 3 points of contact with stairs at all times: 2 feet and 1 hand, or 1 foot and 2 hands if you are that person who just has to push the envelope! So maybe I need to put up some OH&S posters in my stairwell!

Panic as several steps went by and I missed the wall at the end, turning instead to start going down the next flight! Finally gripping the railing at the post as I slid to it and holding on for grim death!! Or is it life? Either way, I managed to stop on that poor banged up left hip with my useless left leg still sticking out in front, and the even more useless right leg underneath and my arm twisted backwards at some weird angle. So by the time my hand found a hold on the midway post, I was through the corner and heading down the next straight with my right leg tucked well under me getting cheese grated on each and every step where the carpet is bare and the strings are coming through. Basically I got a combination of carpet burn and grating right down my shin and a good few bumps on my left hip, which is swelling up nicely. I was feeling pretty shabby!!

So I was pretty stoked to have come to a stop, even if it was at the cost of the whole left side of my torso and arm. But how to get up?? I’m not a little thing, as most of you probably know. And unable to engage to use of either leg and one arm and side made getting up some kind of origami exercise! I actually can’t tell you how I got up, but there were a couple of bad moments where I started to slide again. But here I am to tell the tale!

So I grabbed on for dear life and managed to stop my fall. There was a moment of real horror thinking that the post might let go; I definitely felt it give. But when I went back afterwards it was as solid as ever. But as it turns out 120kg dangling by one arm is not only a threat to the wooden stair railing but to the muscles and soft tissue behind my shoulder blade. OUCH! Before too long I couldn’t turn my head to the left more than 20 degrees, behind my shoulder blade was singing and I was rapidly becoming frozen stiff. So a trip to the physio to get ironed out.

To look at you can’t even tell I’ve had an accident. Well not until I covered the grazes along my shin with white dressings that is, they kind of stand out on my tan! Not intentional but there you go. It saves me feeling like an attention seeker telling people about my accident; the bandages seek your attention on my behalf!! Is that the same thing?

Its amazing the pain and irritation such superficial scrapes create. Bed sheets, leggings, any clothing just rubs so I headed down to the pharmacy for some dressings so I can at least be a bit more comfortable. Now at least the stinging doesn’t keep getting set off again. But stretching the skin by moving it any way including walking is still aggravating. So here we are, another accident. What to make of this one? I really don’t know what went wrong so that I can avoid it again. Just one of those things? Or I should take more care?

So that was my fall. I thought that was enough, how about you?

But no. I get to work and start my usual Thursday; you know, all the packs and stuff that I wrote about recently. Then my boss brings one of the packs to me and says it has been brought back to the pharmacy over an error! That shoots straight through the heart. Especially right on the heels of having experienced a dispensing error and making (possibly) a big deal about it. As it turns out I hadn’t seen that there were 2 loratadine (you know, Claratyne the anti-histamine) tablets instead of one in Tuesday morning. It’s a robot error, but my job is to pick up that type of error, and I didn’t.

I could justify my omission by saying that its not that serious an error; in all likeliness there would be no side effects as loratadine generally has no more side effects than placebo (sugar pill). But the point is that I missed the error.

I could justify it by saying that the patient hadn’t taken it yet so it wasn’t so bad.

I could also justify the error with the conversations I’ve regularly had with other pharmacists checking packs discussing how extra tablets in packs is the hardest error to pick up, compared to other errors: broken tablets, missing tablets, wrong tablets. But I still missed the error. Not good. But it has made me further reconsider my response to the dispensing error that happened to me.

But wait, there’s more!! Unfortunately.

This, I suppose, is what happens when you only work twice a week. Short of them texting you about issues on your days off (it happens!) they save them up for next time you come in!

So, it seems that I dispensed a patient’s 500mg Epilim (valproate) correctly, then attached the labels to 200mg tablets. THIS is a problem. This is a big problem. I don’t know why the patient was taking Epilim but irrespective, taking this error over weeks to months WOULD have resulted in a relapse had the patient taken it: a relapse of epilepsy resulting in seizures, a relapse of bipolar resulting in depression, mania or suicide or worse. As someone who takes Epilim and dreads the probably inevitable day that I relapse, I can totally empathise with the patient in this scenario, as well as my position as pharmacist!!

I could justify this error by…nope, nothing!! I should have scanned the medication against the dispensing; this would have shown the error. I should have compared the original script to the box of tablets to reconcile the strength; this would have shown the error. I could have reviewed the history, but that’s an extra step. All I needed to do was the 2 steps mentioned; that would’ve prevented the error. Luckily the patient identified the error, brought the medication back and no harm, no foul.

Sound familiar?? My high horse is sinking through quicksand and I’m about to go down with it, unless I jump off and acknowledge that I just made an error as significant as that other pharmacist, and how do I want to be treated over this? What lessons do I need to learn? How would I feel about being reported to the pharmacy board? My boss knows, so that aspect can’t get worse, but he was very good about it actually.

Can I console myself with the errors that I did pick up today? 5 missing doses of magnesium in one pack, 2 missing dose of metformin (for diabetes) in another, a broken Panadol tablet making an underdose, a broken clonazepam tablet (for seizures or spasms) underdose, double the Efexor (antidepressant) dose in one slot, a random thyroxine (for underactive thyroid) tablet found in a pack where the patient doesn’t take that medication, and more. Does it make up for letting a more severe error pass through to the keeper? In short, no.

But it does make you think. Here I am, on a squared playing field, accepting that human error exists but there are systems to obey to minimise it, and ignoring the systems is just not on!

Okay, wait. Just give me a minute, read on and it will all (hopefully) become clear.

“What other people think of you is none of your business” – various, or unknown

I had never heard of this philosophy until I needed psychology and psychiatry to fix my mind, or before I got into self improvement-type thoughts and ideas to do my part. Before the last 4 years, what other people thought of me was a major part of my daily life. Anxiety about who thought what about me, insecurity about how others saw me, fretting over any less than perfect social interaction, losing sleep over a joke at my expense, nightmares about potentially horrific social scenarios; I could go on. But I’ve tried hard to put these things in the past with helpful sentiments like the one above. It doesn’t always work, but it works a lot better than it did before I ever tried it! Now I try to mind my own business when it comes to my life, and just do my own thing.

It doesn’t always work out that you can afford to ignore other people’s thoughts about you. This last week I’ve been dealing with a not-so-hot probation review, a first ever for me. It seems like it doubles as a first warning so its been pretty hard to process that one without losing sleep and getting pretty ruffled in my mind! More about that later. In the meantime its a challenge to work out what is my business to attend to, and what I can let pass through my brain and somehow spit out without it doing too much damage on the way through. And isn’t this the central dilemma of this philosophy? Applying it 100% would lead to big problems, but knowing what degree to apply it to a situation is not a science; its definitely an art!

So…any ideas? I’m still thinking.

For now, I’m going to go and do the things that I know I can do, and do well, which today is bird watching and photography. And isn’t this a clincher for bird of the day? It’s slightly out of focus here due to how WordPress handles cropping photos, sorry.

Superb Fairy Wren, male at least 4 to 5 years of age

Something to enjoy, to feel good about, to distract from unpleasantness in life: that’s birding to me. Never mind that for about half of the 3 hour walk it was showering rain. Doesn’t matter that my socks and shoes got thoroughly wet and I squelched all the way back to the car park. Don’t worry that my legs got chafed and my feet got sore. Can’t help it that the long distance photos were all blurry and foggy from the rain and mist.

It was a day out of the house, where I had to get dressed, and eat meals, and talk to other humans; lovely humans who wanted to talk about our common interests and nothing else. Where all I had to do was mind my own business and attend to my own interests and needs. Somewhat selfishly I suppose, but in a therapeutic way. I saw 41 different types of birds myself in 3 hours, which has to come close to being a personal record. I walked for hours in picturesque surroundings which were beautiful, even through rain. And captured photos like the one above, like this one here. Photos that soothe my mind, pictures to look back on maybe, to publish somewhere possibly. And it made the day a good day. Today was a good day. Better than any day since that review. This is a good thing. So for now, I’m good. The rest will come back in time, and I’ll deal with it then, but for now I’m minding my own business.

Time for some good news, don’t you think? The last 2 week’s blogs have been a tad depressing. But then again, that’s what we’re dealing with; depression. And it is depressing!

But, time for some good news. Just as long as you don’t think that’s how it actually works in real life. Good news following bad in a nice little ratio. It doesn’t happen neatly like that. The depressing topics can go on for quite a while without relief!

Thanks to my amazing psychiatrist I actually am feeling quite a bit better this week. My meds have been upped again and within 3 days of increasing the dose I was coming up from the depths and feeling better, and my energy and mood have kept on coming up. Thank goodness!

My belief has been renewed that it is possible to get properly medicated and live a reasonably normal life. I stopped believing over the last little while, thinking I was living a doomed life. I have been reminded how closely the analogy of diabetes fits my disease. When a diabetic’s sugar levels go off, they feel awful but they go to the doctor and the doctor changes the level of medication. I just forgot that I need to go to the doctor and ask for more meds when I start sinking; I tend to think it’s on me to fix myself, as if I could! I’ve been reminded very clearly this time that when I’m struggling, it’s not just that I’m struggling, but that there’s something chemical going on in my brain that needs a doctor to sort out. I need to recognize it, and ask for help. That sounds obvious, but it’s not obvious to me, not when I’m sick. I just blame myself, feel like I’m not doing enough to be better, and I hibernate. So I’m reminded it’s the level of chemicals in my brain that are dictating how I’m going, and when I need more, I need more and I need to ask for it. I’ll try to remember for next time…

I have faith again now, faith that things can be better, and will get better, and will be better. Something I lost lately.

But if I wasn’t feeling better, I was planning to write something “positive” anyway.

You know, so you wouldn’t worry. So you wouldn’t think it was all bleak and dark. To balance out the last two posts. To alleviate your concerns and to reassure you that everything is okay. Because that’s what we do, or at least that’s what I do. People who are emotionally and mentally unwell.

I want you to know when things aren’t going well because I believe in my friends and family knowing the truth. I want you to know, I really do. I think it’s good for a lot of people to know how these things work; so you understand, and maybe so it’ll help you help someone else.

Until all the condolences roll in and everyone is so worried. Until dear friends get scared, and fret about how I am going. Then I think about you, and how it’s affecting you and it makes me anxious, thinking of more questions and concerns, and I back peddle. So sometimes I tell you its all good so you can relax. And so I can relax, and I’m no longer fielding afraid questions from loved ones. My husband says this is insulting to people. To coddle them, and not let them in on the whole truth. To decide what they can handle and what they can’t. To give them the amount of truth that I believe won’t overload them, and by extension, me.

I’m sorry to do this! I don’t mean to take control of the information stream, or insult you, or lie. But it quickly becomes too much for me. Despite this, I don’t want you to change a thing. Please don’t stop feeling concern, or asking me about what’s going on. I’m just letting you in on my crazy brain!

But I think this is a very common thing in people with mental illness. I read a piece recently about “smiling depression” and so many times it IS easier to smile. I try not to be fake, but it’s still my fall back, the easier option.

It’s not about restricting your access to information about my illness and how I’m going. Like I said, I want you to know; at least theoretically. I have a limited capacity for emotion, including other people’s, when I’m not well. This is why sometimes I still say “fine”, “okay”, “not bad”, “good thanks” to skirt the question of how I’m going. Because when I’m really not well, just a simple “how are you?” is enough to bring me to tears, and have I mentioned how much I hate crying? Especially in front of anyone else! But I’m trying to be honest and open, so bear with me.

Sometimes I want you to think I’m okay, or not so bad so I can slink back to bed without attention.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate your concern.

I want to promote understanding of mental illness, but sometimes the kind concern and loving questions, while so touching, are a lot to deal with when I’m operating at low emotional capacity! When I’m better it’s a lot easier to process and when I’m well it’s easy, just the same as you or anyone, but of course the same thoughts and questions don’t apply then.

But I am well this week. I’ve got energy, motivation, stamina. I feel good! Everything is easier. I’m doing more, and it’s draining me less, and not exhausting me just to move. My husband is happy, the house is in a little bit shape, things are just good. So none of this is fake. These are the real positives that I can see clearly with my eyes right now. Yay!

I’ve gotten out of bed every day this week, and sometimes before noon! Really!

I’ve talked to a potential employer via email and on the phone, and done an in-person job interview

I’ve done groceries, dropped off some clothes to be mended, washed and dried sheets, posted some clothes for refund, tidied up my side of the bedroom, even cooked dinner one night! Don’t get your hopes too high though, that’s about all I’ve done!

I’ve been to my GP for an appointment, to a doctor for an ultrasound, to a careers counsellor for help getting a job, and to KFC when I couldn’t figure out what to eat for lunch! That’s a lot of outings and socialising for me! On the days I went out, I went to bed when I got home, usually for an hour and a half…but I didn’t nap on the days that I didn’t go out, so that’s something

All this out and about meant I got some sunshine on 2 separate days. Actually on the skin sunshine!

So that’s me for this week. It’s not a lot from the viewpoint of my old life, but these days I take whatever I can take, and this is relatively awesome!

What could I do, I had to like it! It just made me think of myself, in a kind of funny.kind of truthful way!

This popped up in my Facebook feed the other day from Brindabella and I actually laughed out loud! The expression ‘lol’ is so overused online that it has lost all meaning, but this is one situation where it was actually appropriate.

I laughed because over a few months I gradually increased in weight until suddenly one day I looked in the mirror and realised I looked like this! Not a fun realisation! I mentioned it to my hubby and he agreed that he’d thought for a while now that I looked pregnant! Always helpful but he was kind about it. But its the truth so what can you do.

I should clarify here that I’m not pregnant; the weight is due to indulgence, medication side effects and the symptoms of mental illness. Just to be clear.

But anyway, somehow being that shape and seeing this gorilla translates to funny in my brain…not sure why, but I guess it’s amusing to see yourself mirrored in another species, and to see a big round belly, flabby arms and a double chin on a cute-ish animal looking equally unhappy about the situation!

The weird thing is, I know I’m overweight to the point of exploding over the obese line. But somehow my brain hasn’t caught up. Maybe because it happened so fast and unexpectedly, maybe because I’m in denial a bit…not sure why. I kind of knew already that my brain was lagging behind, but it became most apparent when I was in Thailand recently. Sitting on the boat in just my bathers, swimming in the pool, jumping off the boat into the water carefree and happy in front of everyone else, walking around at lunchtime feeling completely comfortable with my body the whole time. Which was a really nice feeling instead of hating it and wanting it to be different.

Until…I looked back and saw the photos! My big round tummy, double chin, fat cheeks and eyes deep in puffy sockets…ergh! Then I was not happy! Then I was not comfortable with my figure! Photos are kind of the cold hard truth that shoot you down out of your dreamy sky and bring you down with a big hard bang to reality!

I can kind of understand the idea behind body dysmorphic disorder now. I don’t have it and I’m not suggesting I do…but the brain is powerful and can really twist reality sometimes. To be one way, and consider yourself to be another way is…well in this case it’s kind to me to a point, but I guess when it comes to addiction or something like that it is very unhelpful, because you think you’re okay when really you are not. It can be unhelpful to me too I suppose, because when I’m looking at a block of chocolate I think it’ll be okay instead of considering my obesity and how chocolate is really not okay!

Here’s the other thing. When I was first really unwell, the psychologist and the doctor and all the self help websites told me to do nice things to and for myself to help me feel just a bit better. Have a bath, eat your favourite food, watch your favourite show, go to your favourite place either physically or shut your eyes and imagine you are there. So chocolate, a hot chocolate, a bowl of yoghurt…whatever you love, was okay to eat anytime and all the time to help get you through the difficult days.

Except there was no limit put on that habit…so I just kept going and going. A limit would have been good, but realistically I was unwell for months while we tried fluoxetine, venlafaxine, sertraline, sertraline plus mirtazepine, sertraline plus quetiapine, desvenlafaxine plus quetiapine, reboxetine plus quetiapine and full circle to venlafaxine plus quetiapine and finally venlafaxine plus quetiapine plus lithium, the best yet! All of those antidepressants working a bit or not much, until finally the correct diagnosis of bipolar and the life-changing prescription of lithium.

And still the end date for self indulgence hasn’t been set.

I’m better; I’m not back to where I’d like to be. I have more energy; but still need my daily naps. I have more resilience; but some days I just need something external to make me feel better. I’m trying to cut down on my treats and snacks; but it’s hard!

And here’s my shortlist of how fatness that looks like pregnancy is different to pregnancy:

1) In pregnancy, you know what to expect and you prepare your body. You moisturise and Bio-oil your belly to prevent stretch marks. In fatness, stretch marks pop up out of the blue completely unexpected and you have no warning to prepare for that.

2) In pregnancy you get the baby most times, not always. In fatness you just have the rumours, the questions, the look without the baby at the end. To be honest, I haven’t decided whether I think this is a bad thing or a good thing….I’ll get back to you.

3) In pregnancy you deliver the baby and the belly size reduces a bit, then gradually reduces slowly back to somewhere near where you started. In fatness, these is no initial tummy reduction; you just start from wherever you are and gradually reduce it hopefully also to somewhere near where you started. So actually, the two conditions can be pretty similar in this regard.

Well that’s about all I have to say about fatness and pregnancy at this point in time.

I started and stopped the gym, I did a few food coaching sessions, I returned to pilates for a bit, I go on and off calorie restriction, we’re trying to do daily walks, I’m trying to get back on my bike on the trainer in the shed, I’m trying to walk past my favourite snacks.

It’s a work in progress; I’ll get there one day. And for now, my attempt is to be kind to myself and remember why I came to be where I am, and whenever I can, to do bits and pieces to help me along the way to getting where I want to go.